First Love Poem by Wislawa Szymborska

Seems so real. Thanks for sharing.

What an original, novel take on memory of a love- -rings with truth. Must read more by this poet

°Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.° ~ William Wordsworth That objective recall of emotion in tranquility is palpably evident here. Ironically though, not the memory is not all that emotional. It's almost anti-poetry, taking the clichéd first-love narrative and divesting it of the romantic. And letting that coldness conjure, in tranquility, a corollary in the idea of death. Brilliantly executed.

Absurdic Original upon First Love! And then the Translation, what I know about Translations: It does never touch that what is meant with the poem, and thus I must conclude: Better a poem in the language itself...and that I can never read......what is better then? An excellently translated poem, my grand applause for the Poetess and the Translator. God's Blessings be with you both.

Love isn't equal for all, so also the first love... as depicted in this poem... They say the first love is the most important. That's very romantic but it's not the case with me. However it is a beautiful poem on love with stunning expression. Thanks and congratulations to her soul for being selected as the poem of the day.

Certain poets will be remembered forever. She is one of them. Considered by many to be one of Poland's greatest poets. And this poem, as good as it is, doesn't even come close to her best. But it's darn good. Talk about a different take on first love! And the emotion expressed! And this is just the translation! Suffice it to say that I'm a big fan.

First love sometimes dies......

Remembered but in dreams before sleep came, Lost in the memory of the tree's A noble savage there gave room inside his head, Both held their breath.. iip.. james

Not even a ribbon! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

But still, just the way it is, it can do what the rest are not yet able to do: unremembered not even dreamt of it accustoms me to death. A poem for all ages to come. Love is eternal irrespective of the angle you look upon. Thanks and congrats poet.